How Did I Get Here? (Poetry)

I’ve seen the types on TV, the ones everyone is paying to be.
They’ve got it all figured out, it all goes according to plan, but life didn’t work out that way for this particular man.
When I look back to where I’ve once been, the landscape, it’s changed from how I viewed it back when.
Walking into the wars not aware of the struggle, that the choices I made would have me to juggle.
The road signs in front warning of dread – road out, road closed – I must have missed it, that had to be it, I supposed.
Not true! They were just projections of my conscience, yelling objections to my self destructive directions.
Flashbacks exposed it so clearly, I could see how You were walking there with me.
I made them, the choices, I had to pick between the voices.
I thought I knew what joy is, but all I bought and fought would destroy this.
Charades. We play these so clearly, and cheer for how well we dress up our hearts.
Whatever it takes to cover up our most rotten of parts.
Check for the monster under the bed, but they should only be in your head.
Was that just a dream, or a random thought stream?
Surely I’m not the one needing redeemed.
Those things can’t be real, come to disrupt my reality pill.
The monster is real.
I’ve seen the enemy, and it came from within me.
When we think of suicide, the last word we use is pride.
A desperate action, of a life void of any satisfaction.
The most hopeless of positions, to desire such a transition, from existence perceived at a distance, solo, and alone, to becoming as lifeless as a stone.
The noose around the neck, an unstable chair hits the deck.
A gun or a blade to drain red liquid life from the vein.
For me, it would have been from hitting a tree.
Drowning in the bottle, with not enough sense to keep my foot off the throttle.
What I did have in my vision was every decision, to lash out in anger, even at a stranger, unaware of the danger that what I was seeing was a reflective mirror, as I tried to steer clear of my empty interior.
I’ve seen the things that are darker than night, spine chilling presences filling the soul with fright.
The frightening truth is, that could have been me. Cut off from the true love of the Father that I couldn’t see.
There is a place of pain, darkness, and gnashing of teeth that creates a willingness to drink a bottle of bleach, just to try to get some kind of relief, from this destination bought by the ticket of unbelief.
The ultimate separation and eternal desperation.
To call God a liar, that’s what will put you in this lake of fire.
We all call out for justice, but don’t want it for us, we want the mercy, while willing to set everyone else ablaze – just to watch them burn on center stage.
Even sacrifice the unborn to save us from personal scorn.
We all have the disease, our symptoms are plain and exposed, just look at everyone’s up turned nose.
I’m not the problem, it’s them over there, they’re causing all the despair.
Because sin is the source in everyone’s heart, it’s what is tearing us apart, opening a hole that’s can’t be filled and has to be covered by the Son of Man, the Lamb’s blood who had to be spilled.
We can’t over come it, the scales won’t balance, because it’s our hearts that are the source of our malice.
Through Christ I see no more demons left clinging or singing anything so tempting and appealing to send my soul back to reeling
Pressure retreats, as now my heart beats, to the rhythm of thanksgiv’n, pushing the voice of my soul to rejoice oh so joyful.
How great thou art! How great thou art!